


Doing the Right Thing

by lordavon



Series: I'd Rather Hurt Than Live Without You [12]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spiderpool - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordavon/pseuds/lordavon
Summary: Wade and Peter meet at the scene of a crime after they've been broken up for months.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: I'd Rather Hurt Than Live Without You [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462909
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Doing the Right Thing

**Author's Note:**

> It has been pointed out that it helps to read the whole series to understand some of what's happening. These aren't quite full stories/chapters and yet a bit more than just a scene in the work.

He was attracting too much damn attention, and he knew it. The building was on fire, sirens blared in the distance, and the fucking smugglers just kept not dying, and it turned out it wasn’t a slaving ring like they’d thought, but an illegal animal trading organization. Rhinos, tigers, some cute fluffy fox-things that had ears far too large for their heads; he kept finding more stashes of cages full of animals that he couldn’t just set loose because they wouldn’t know where to run. He’d tried at first and gotten mauled for his effort, so now instead of releasing them he was dragging them outside to safety. He couldn’t just leave them to shoot the smugglers first, because _the building was on fire_ and so he had to keep stopping, getting cages somewhere safe, and then shooting up the next round of evil animal kidnappers. 

He knew, deep in his gut, that some of the bad guys were _getting away_ and that was going to be a big problem when it came time to get paid for this gig. And he couldn’t catch them because he had to rescue the damn animals. 

All in all, this was not the quick job he’d been hoping it would be.

Another burst of bullets slammed into him as he crested the top of the stairs and he growled as he fired back. It was getting harder and harder to get through the warehouse offices and he realized he was taking a lot of damage. Animal smugglers were a hell of a lot tougher than he’d been crediting them with. 

The last shooter dropped with a meaty thud and Deadpool took a moment to rest against the wall, catching his breath, and took stock of his injuries. Most of the gunshots were healing quickly, but he’d taken enough damage in a short enough time that it was slowing him down. And he didn’t seem to have full use of one shoulder; that was from the tiger before he realized releasing animals into a fire wasn’t the best idea when they panic, and when something that weights nearly 250 kg decides to rip into your shoulder it’s not going to work right for a bit, healing factor or no healing factor.

And he realized he’d taken more damage than he’d thought when the next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling, only there was a masked head in the way. Black-rimmed white lenses stared at him from a red face, and as he stared back, he realized who it was.

“Wade?”

_Fucking New York. Why the fucking hell did I agree to come to New York?_

“Wade, come on, you’re healing; don’t fade out on me.”

He was being carried. Spider-Man was carrying him outside, and it felt really good to be in Peter’s arms, and he wanted to just stay right here and screw the world and screw his own resolve and more than anything, screw Peter, and he couldn’t because he knew there were still bad guys somewhere loose and there were still caged animals and Pet shouldn’t be focusing on him, he should be rescuing the animals or webbing up the smugglers and oh fuck he’d just called him ‘Pet’ in his mind like he had any right to and shouldn’t he maybe say something before this got more awkward?

“Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.” Peter – _no, Spider-Man, think Spider-Man_ – put him down, sitting, back against a wall, outside in the maze of caged animals Wade had rescued. Spider-Man crouched on the balls of his feet, watching with a concerned tilt of his head that Wade knew far too well.

He really should say something. He had lots of things to say. He’d spent hours saying and practicing the way this would go, although it wouldn’t be outside a burning building surrounded by endangered species; it should have been showing up at Peter’s graduation from grad school or some joint mission and Wade would say something like, “Good job, Spider-Man,” and Pete- no, Spider-Man would say, “Hey, thanks, you too,” and then they’d go back to Spidey’s apartment and slam into each other hard enough the neighbors would call the cops on the noise disturbance and then they’d move in together and everything would go back to the way it’d been except this time Peter wouldn’t try to kill himself and…

And every time that’s as far as he could get, because he couldn’t see a relationship with him, Wade fucking Wilson, that didn’t end with Peter trying to kill himself.

Wade knew who and what he was, and people like him wrecked people like Peter Parker, and he couldn’t do that again. 

He couldn’t.

“C’mon Wade, at least say something?” There was a note in Spidey’s voice, something in the pitch, that made Wade’s breath tremble, and he couldn’t stand up for some reason – oh, he was missing a leg somehow, that’s why; when the fuck did he lose a leg? – and he couldn’t get away but he couldn’t listen to that voice, or he’d lose it. So he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Oh Em Gee! Spider-Man! It’s really you! And you know my name! Hi! I’m Deadpool! I mean I’m Wade!” He reached out and grabbed Spidey’s hand, shaking it. “Wow!”

“Wade?” 

“I’m you’re biggest fan! Can I have your autograph? I think I have some paper here.” He made a show of patting the remaining leg, and then the air. “Oh must be in my other leg!” he joked.

Spider-Man’s lenses narrowed, and when he spoke, his tone was flat. “Seriously? The first time we see each other – talk to each other – in months, and this is what you say? Really?”

“What else should I say? You’re my hero!” He couldn’t believe what he was saying, and he was grateful Spider-Man kept the mask on. He didn’t think his resolve would hold if he could see Peter’s expression.

He watched Spidey tense, angry; then the posture changed and Wade winced as Spidey reached out a gloved hand to touch his face, the pressure light but firm through the Deadpool mask. “Wade, you do remember –”

Spidey cut himself off, standing and looking towards the south. A moment later an explosion screamed through the air, fire rising above the skyline. The boom was loud enough Wade could hear glass windows shattering. 

“I can’t – I –” Spidey sounded torn, and in that moment, as Peter tried to decide between _helping others_ and _staying with him_ , Wade knew he’d made the right decision in avoiding Peter all this time. 

He was bad for Peter.

He was terrible for Peter. 

He couldn’t ever be with Peter again.

“Go,” he said. “The city needs you, Spider-Man. I’ll be fine. My leg’s already growing back! I’ll be right behind you!”

There was another long moment before Spider-Man nodded; Wade felt something inside him crack as Spider-Man held out a hand, spun out webs, and jumped into the air. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Wade!” he shouted, before swinging away out of earshot. 

He would, too; it was one of the things he loved about Peter. Peter always stayed with him after a fight to make sure he healed. But even though he’d told Peter to go, Wade had hoped he’d ignore the explosion and stay. And that hope, that Spider-Man wouldn’t go help where he was needed and instead take care of him, was the surest sign that for once in his life, Wade Wilson had made the right choice.

No matter how much it hurt.

“Sorry, Pet,” Wade whispered as he started to crawl off, the movement awkward with only one leg. “But I’ve got to kill some more people, and then get out of here before I get you killed, too.”

~*~

Peter knew Wade would be gone by the time he got back to the warehouse, but he couldn’t deny the blossom of hope in his chest that maybe Wade would still be there, and maybe what he knew would be wrong.

He wasn’t. 

The scene was crawling with police investigating the area, and rescue organizations taking the caged animals onto trucks, presumably to send them to zoos or back where they’d come from; Peter didn’t really know and in the moment he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was Wade wasn’t where he had left him.  
He stayed on the building, observing the rescue efforts, scanning in case Wade was just out of sight, but when the cops were gone and the animals were rescued and there was nothing left but little yellow tags on the ground and Do Not Cross tape around the scene, Peter had to admit to himself that Wade wasn’t there. That he’d left.

Cable was right, damn him; Wade wasn’t ready. Might never be ready.

Peter was crying by the time he got back to his apartment, and fumbled with his phone as soon as he got his mask off and could breath. “Ja? Peter?” was Kurt’s voice on the other end.

“I – I need to visit.” I saw him for the first time and he left me again.

“Of course, Peter, whenever you want.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow.” I can’t deal.

“Do you need me to stay on the line?”

Peter took mental stock of himself. His thoughts about Wade chased around his mind in circles, and he needed an anchor. He reminded himself recognizing he needed help was a good thing. “I need to call out of work for tomorrow but – yeah, I think so.” 

He could hear Kurt’s reassuring smile. “I am here as long as you need, mein Freund.”

He had to put the phone down to strip out of his costume and get a tshirt on; then he got into bed, wrapping the covers around himself, and said, “Just talk? I want to listen.”

He fell asleep, phone to his ear, while Kurt talked about daily life in the Mansion.

**Author's Note:**

> Small steps. It's all small steps here.


End file.
